He answered her with a glare, then exchanged glances with Riley. This was the first time they’d heard how the Dulacs had captured Addie in the first place, and even Jax had to admit it didn’t sound good. Whose side is she on? From the expression on Riley’s face, he must have been wondering the same thing.
“Based on eyewitness accounts from Wales, we’re also dealing with Aerons,” Sheila Morgan said. “They’re the only Kin known to tattoo themselves.”
“I want to know how Kin got their hands on military aircraft and Hummers,” said Ash Pellinore. “Most of them live on the streets or in the houses of Normals, leeching food and shelter. How did these Kin gather the resources to mount an assault on Oeth-Anoeth, and how did they coordinate it? What are they using for communication? Ham radio?”
“Scrying,” Jax suggested.
“You can’t send a message through scrying,” Oliver Bors said. “It’s only for observation.”
“Unless you schedule it on both ends and bring notepads and pencils,” Jax pointed out. “Then it’s a video call with a chat box.”
Everyone stared at Jax. Well, duh, he wanted to say. Didn’t you think of that?
Sloane cleared her throat. “My father is trying to track down Wylit’s heirs in Romania. Wylit led the last two attempts to break the Eighth Day Spell.”
“I don’t think they’re involved,” Riley said. “Miller Owens infiltrated Wylit’s clan for me and was observing them for months before the pyramid incident. Wylit had no contact with any other Kin during that time, including his own family. He was working alone. Miller made very sure of this, because we wanted to identify any collaborators.”
“So,” Pellinore grunted. “You weren’t just cowering in a hidey-hole these past few years.”
“No sir,” Riley said. “I was doing the job my father left me as best I could.”
“We can’t entirely discount the Wylits,” said Bedivere. “I’m not surprised Aerons are involved—we’ve all had unpleasant encounters with them over the years. But they’re a disorganized, unruly mob. I don’t believe they could have spearheaded this venture or acquired the resources to pull it off. Nor do I believe a child could lead them, even if she is an Emrys. We’re overlooking someone important.” Now he turned to Jax. “There were collaborators who escaped the raid on the Emrys house thirty-five years ago, which is the last time multiple Kin clans organized against us. Perhaps the current Emrys clan leader can give us the names we’re lacking.”
“She was only eleven at the time,” Riley pointed out.
“Eleven-year-olds have sharp eyes and ears. If she wants to prove her loyalty to this council, she can give us the names of the Kin who conspired with her father.”
Jax looked at Riley for guidance and, when he nodded, answered accordingly. “If she knows any names, I’m sure she’ll tell you.”
“Finding their base is our number-one priority,” Sheila reminded everyone.
“Once we’ve located it,” Roger Sagramore said, “I assume there will be a preemptive strike during the seven-day timeline?”
“Of course,” Sheila said.
“You can’t do that!” Jax exclaimed. “You can’t go shooting down planes if Addie might be on them, and you can’t bomb their hideout during the seven-day timeline. She’ll be killed!”
Riley leaned forward and spoke directly to Sheila. “Give us a chance to extract the girl before an air strike. I managed it on the pyramid. I can do it again.”
“The circumstances were different,” Sheila Morgan said.
“The girl chose her side,” Oliver Bors remarked. “And the consequences that go with it.”
“She was running away from your clan!” Jax retorted. “You were planning to kill her and my liege lady to end the eighth day.”
A couple members of the Table actually snickered at his outburst. “Sorry, Aubrey,” said Ash Pellinore. “I can’t imagine the Dulacs wanting to end the eighth day and give up their magic!” Meanwhile, Sloane looked like she’d snorted up seawater and her uncle appeared to be holding his breath.
“That’s because you don’t know they’ve been experimenting with brownie holes to replace the eighth day as a source of magic,” Jax said. “Only for themselves, of course. All you guys would be demoted to Normals.”
“Brownie holes?” Pellinore guffawed in disbelief.
“I saw them in use,” Riley said. “And Sheila, you know that’s how Evangeline escaped from their building that night.” When Sheila nodded, Riley continued, “Only members of the Dulac clan have gained entry—plus Jax, because he’s related to them.”
“Do you want to address this, Sloane?” Bedivere asked.
Sloane’s eyes flicked toward Mrs. Crandall, the truth teller, before answering. “Grandmother wanted to investigate the magic potential of brownie holes in the event a catastrophe destroyed the eighth day. With so few Emrys heirs left, there’s a possibility the spell might end and cut off our source of magic.”
“More than a possibility,” Jax muttered, “since you had one Emrys heir prisoner and were trying to make me bring you the other.”
“Grandmother was killed because of those brownie holes,” Sloane said stiffly. “We’ve discontinued experimentation.”
“Are you telling me the Dulac clan can pop out of brownie holes?” Pellinore had finally reasoned out what experimentation with brownie holes meant. “Anywhere? Like in my home?”
“Of course not,” Oliver Bors said. “Very few people were included in the trial runs, and no one else can be given access now, because Luis Morder, who knew the necessary spell, was killed by the Llyrs. Besides, to reiterate Sloane, my mother died because something monstrous came out of the brownie holes. We’re no longer using them.”
Jax glanced at Mrs. Crandall. She didn’t call either Sloane or Bors out in a lie. Their words were literal truth with a lot of omissions. “Even if the Dulacs have temporarily quit their plan to murder my liege lady and her sister,” he said, hoping everyone at the Table would notice they hadn’t actually denied his accusation, “you can’t plan an assault against the Llyrs that will endanger Addie Emrys. I object . . . uh, on behalf of the Emrys seat!”
Sheila addressed Jax. “Do you know how many casualties there were in that hurricane?”
Jax gulped. “Yes, ma’am. I do.”
“I sympathize with you.” Even though there wasn’t a hint of emotion on Sheila’s face, Jax believed she meant what she said. “But how else do you propose we defeat them? We have an impressive array of talents at this Table, and our vassals have talents of their own. But my clansmen and Pellinore are the only ones with combat experience—and we won’t be facing bullets. It’ll be tornadoes, flash floods, and gale-force winds. Even I can’t pilot a helicopter in a hurricane. You already know what they did to my planes with lightning.”
Having experienced the storm produced by the Llyrs, Jax understood what a powerful talent they had. For the first time he considered how weak the Transitioners seemed by comparison. The Morgans’ talent for operating machinery that otherwise wouldn’t work on the eighth day, the Dulac talent for changing memories—how did they stack up against people who were practically weather gods? Even Riley’s voice of command was not unstoppable. Jax had seen Wylit resist it and Evangeline, too, when Riley had tried to order her out of danger in the Dulac basement.
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Roger Sagramore said. “We should take every advantage we can. That was the point of the Eighth Day Spell in the first place.”
Jax turned to Riley, expecting him to protest. But Riley looked worried, as if he was weighing Addie’s life against thousands, maybe millions of others, and not liking the result. Not you, too, Jax pleaded silently.
Carlotta Lyonnesse patted Jax’s hand. “If it’s possible to spare the girl, we will. We don’t want to see innocents killed. But the Normal population is composed of innocents, too, and the Kin don’t share the same remorse. With the exception of your liege lady, I assume.”
“Well, of course,” Jax said angrily, moving his hand.
“You can’t lump all Kin together with the Llyrs,” Riley said, breaking his silence. “In fact, I’m concerned about the safety of Kin who aren’t involved in hostilities. The Llyrs will be recruiting their own kind, and I doubt they’ll stick to volunteers.”
“We should detain them,” said Sagramore. “Collect as many as we can and hold them for the duration.”
“You mean like a World War Two internment camp?” Riley looked at the people seated around the table. “Please tell me that’s not the way the Table operates now.” He didn’t come out and say My father wouldn’t have approved, but his expression suggested he was thinking it.
Bedivere cleared his throat. “What if I offer to provide secure and pleasant living facilities for any Kin seeking sanctuary from the conflict? We’ll take no one by force. Jax, you and your liege lady can inspect the premises.” He met Jax’s eyes and didn’t patronize him with a pat on the hand. “I want to see the Emrys girl spared, if we can. Even if you doubt my humanistic motives, you must believe I have no desire to see the Emrys family decreased further and the eighth day endangered.” He tilted his head slightly toward the other side of the table, where Sloane and Bors sat.
Bedivere doesn’t trust them either. Jax extended his right hand. “Can we shake on it, sir? That you’ll keep neutral Kin safe? That you’ll block any plan to eliminate the Emrys family?”
Jax heard the intake of breath around the table. It was pretty bold to use Bedivere’s own talent against him, and Jax wondered if he’d gone too far. But Bedivere didn’t seem angry. He clasped Jax’s hand. “You have my word. I will not approve any action designed to deliberately result in the annihilation of the Emrys family, and I’ll guarantee the safety of any neutral Kin in my care to the best of my ability.”
It was a carefully worded statement, and Jax understood there were probably clever ways around it. He hadn’t gotten everything he wanted, and Addie was still in danger. But Jax saw respect in Bedivere’s eyes and felt the tingle of magical potential in his handshake. Considering this was his first time facing the Table, Jax didn’t think he’d done too badly.
9
CALVIN BEDIVERE’S SUPPORT DID not sway the council, however, which voted six to four in favor of a preemptive strike during the seven-day timeline if the Llyrs’ hiding place was discovered. Sheila Morgan did tell Jax they would try to “incapacitate” rather than “annihilate,” although that didn’t comfort him much.
After the meeting, Oliver Bors headed for the door with Roger Sagramore on his heels. Sloane followed, but made a point of passing by Riley on her way out. “Just so you know,” she said, flipping her long brown hair over one shoulder, “a cheap suit and a bad haircut don’t make you look any less like a punk.”
“Stop checking me out, then,” Riley replied.
“You wish!” Sloane hissed.
After Sloane left, Carlotta Lyonnesse approached Riley. “My dear boy, I am so very sorry about your family. Your mother and I weren’t closely related, but I felt her loss all the same. I don’t know if you remember, but my granddaughter dated one of your cousins . . .”
“I remember,” Riley said gruffly. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, clenching and unclenching his hands, while Carlotta ran through condolences for seemingly every deceased member of his family. Riley stood there and endured it.
Jax was trying to think of a way to rescue him when he heard footsteps behind him and turned to face Sheila Morgan. She had such a powerful personality, Jax had forgotten how tiny she was, just like her daughter Deidre. “You did well today,” she said. “Both of you. You took everyone by surprise, and he made a good impression without overreaching himself—like Sloane did. It’s a shame you came late. You missed her getting a smackdown from Pellinore.”
Jax was sorry he’d missed that. “We came late on purpose,” he explained. “Riley wanted me to apply for the Emrys seat in front of the whole council. He was afraid I’d be turned away without a full vote if we came early.”
“Not a bad strategy,” Sheila said. “It’s enough of an upheaval for three vacant seats to be filled at one time. But to have you show up as a solid voting block—Pendragon, Kaye, and Emrys—that’s thrown off the balance of the entire Table. No wonder Lyonnesse and Bedivere are making friendly overtures.”
Is that what they were doing? Jax glanced around. On the other side of the room, Bedivere was engaged in conversation with Mrs. Crandall, while Pellinore watched with crossed arms and hunched eyebrows.
Dulac and Bors always voted together, Jax guessed. And from the way Sagramore had left the room in their company, he was probably their ally. Now three new votes threatened their power at the Table. Sloane must be hopping mad! Bedivere seemed to be neutral, along with Sheila. Pellinore was abrasive, but at least he wasn’t in Sloane’s back pocket.
“Can you help me out with something?” Jax asked Deidre’s mother. “I’m still trying to learn who everybody is and what their talents are. How was Lyonnesse related to Riley’s mom?”
“They were distant cousins. The Lyonnesse talent is linguistics—mastering any language, spoken or written. Riley’s mother was from a branch-off line and had a similar talent, limited to spoken language.”
“How about Sagramore?”
“Sagramore is a facilitator. He can’t do anything on his own, but he can link the talents of other people to produce new and creative results. An ironic talent for such an unsociable man.”
Did Sheila Morgan just make a joke? Jax hadn’t thought she possessed a sense of humor. “What’s the Bors talent?” he asked.
“You don’t know? Aren’t they your relatives?”
Jax tried to figure out the relationship on his fingers. If Ursula Dulac had been his great-aunt, then her son Oliver would be some sort of cousin—maybe once or twice removed?
Sheila got tired of waiting. “The Bors talent is suppression of magic within a certain radius. The more of them working together, the larger the suppression field. That might be useful for fighting the Llyrs, although Oliver and his brothers don’t have experience in anything more combative than the floor of the Stock Exchange.”
“And Pellinore?”
Sheila almost smiled. “You’ve heard of werewolves?”
Jax gasped. “No. Way.”
“I’m exaggerating, but not by much. If you ever have the chance to see him in action, you’ll never forget it.” Jax’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, staring at the bearded man across the room, but Sheila didn’t give him much time to dwell on the idea. “Now you tell me something. Brownie holes. It’s true? You can get into them?”
“Yes.” Jax ripped his gaze away from Ash Pellinore.
“What sort of military application do they have?”
“Uh . . .” How was Jax supposed to know? “I used them to sneak around the Dulac building. And I was able to move in time a bit. Backward or forward by a couple hours.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is it true what Oliver said? They lost the only person who could grant other people access?”
“Yeah, their spell caster was the expert.” Was the expert. Now Dorian was the expert.
Suddenly, Jax realized why Sheila was talking to him when there were other, more important people in the room. She was doing exactly what she’d said Bedivere and Lyonnesse were doing: making friendly overtures. Jax was worth something to her. He had inside knowledge of something she saw potential in.
That was why he dared to ask, “Can my liege lady request a favor of you?” Sheila arched a dark eyebrow, but Jax plunged on. “Bedivere said he’d take in Kin refugees, and I know of a house that’s full of them—mostly children. We could use help moving them to safety before something bad happens to them.”
“Why would I be interested in this?” Jax understood she wasn’t being cold, just blunt. What benefit did she gain from transporting a bunch of Kin orphans?
“Because there’s
also a Kin woman living at that house who might help us. When I was there a few weeks ago, she went into a trance and told me the Llyrs were escaping from Oeth-Anoeth. I’m pretty sure she said this at the exact moment it was happening, all the way across the ocean.” Jax smiled. “Would someone with that kind of talent interest you, ma’am?”
Now, Sheila truly smiled back, and her face didn’t even crack.
10
ADDIE RISKED A GLIMPSE out the window, and the sight of the ground so far below made her feel dizzy. Her first time in an airplane had been after her rescue from the Dulac prison—and on that occasion she’d been more worried about the Transitioner planes pursuing them and the lightning Bran was using to fight them than how high off the ground she was. All her life, Addie had seen Normal airplanes hanging motionless in the sky on the eighth day, but that was different. Magic held them there. Addie knew the power of magic. What was holding this plane up while it flew? Science? Addie had no faith in the power of science.
Neither, apparently, did Bran. He’d questioned Madoc extensively about the plane and especially about the Normals who serviced it. “If the mechanics don’t excel at their job and keep their mouths shut,” Madoc had explained, “they won’t receive their exorbitant salary.”
Normals were motivated by money, according to Madoc, which was why he’d spent centuries acquiring it. Addie wondered what the Normals thought of their mysterious, anonymous employer. When Madoc first started amassing his fortune in the early 1700s, communicating through the use of handwritten letters wasn’t unusual. Now, Normals conducted business with phones and computers and other devices Addie had never seen in operation, but according to Kel, Madoc issued instructions to his employees the old-fashioned way and paid them well enough not to question it.
Madoc’s money would finance their search for the Treasures of the Kin, but once they were found, it would be up to Addie to use their power to weave the eighth day into the Normal timeline and end the exile of her race. To do this, she would have to master a spell that had confounded her father—a spell that might not have been successfully cast since her ancestor Merlin did it centuries ago.
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